Hurricanes and Merri-go-rounds
by thatTWWgirl
Summary: Donna takes the job offered to her in Night Five.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi, kids. If you're wondering why I'm referring to you as kids, it's because Leo McGarry left a lasting impression on my heart, as well as my lexicon.**

**This story is an AU set during the final stages of Bartlet's reelection, had Donna taken the job with the internet startup offered to her in the episode Night Five.**

**Though it is one of many in a long list of unfinished fics, if you guys like it, I'll get around to continuing it. Someday... Somewhere... Somehow... We'll find a new way of living!**

**Sorry, when the moment presents itself, a West Side Story/West Wing joke must be made.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They own me.**

**Reviews: Aw, shucks, y'all. You know I'm a sucker for your wise words of critique and compliment.**

**Rating: T? I think I use the F word once or twice?**

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_"Did he offer you money?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Well, all I can offer you is a title bump."_

_"Like what?"_

_"Senior Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy."_

_"...That's my current title."_

_"Oh. Well then I guess I can't offer you a title bump."_

She'd gone back to work, doing the same menial tasks she'd done day in and day out for the past four years. She watched him grow smitten with Amy. And it was then that she realized that he really didn't have anything to offer her, anymore.

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She gave him her two weeks notice, and the time flew by. She expected him to do something, to try to convince her to stay, to guilt her even. But he didn't. He withdrew completely, hardly speaking to her. She thought that maybe it was better that way; better that they part now then drift apart in agonizing slow motion.

She'd hoped that they could still be friends. But that had been far-fetched to begin with.

Her new job was exciting, and a complete change of pace. The internet start up's office was lazy and creative, filled with intelligent people in casual clothes, people who didn't worry about what the majority of Americans had to say about them in the latest polling data. Predictably, Donna excelled there.

Within a matter of months, she was snatched up by a Congressman's reelection committee, and she couldn't resist the opportunity to get back into politics. It had started with a job running their online campaign, but soon she'd been promoted to a high-ranking PR position. She weighed in on policy issues, and quickly grew into her place on the team. They loved her.

On occasion, she missed her old job. There was something about the White House; the patriotism, the loyalty and idealism... It filled your heart fit to burst. She missed the President and his staff, particularly CJ and Sam. They spoke on occasion.

Did she miss Josh? She didn't like to think about that.

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It was October 2nd, 2002.

The office was running full-throttle, with the election just around the corner. She'd been assigned about four thousand things to do that morning, and had only just gotten around to sitting down at ten o'clock that night. The only thing she had left was the report on their most recent ad-buy, and she was determined to finish it quickly in order to actually get some sleep tonight. She was about halfway through when an intern, Drew, knocked on her door.

"Ms. Moss?"

"Mm?" She hardly looks up, chewing on her pen.

"There's a guy here to see you."

"What does he want?"

"He's, uhh, from the White House."

She groans. This would be a treat. The White House had endorsed their candidate, and therefore felt they had the right to tell him what to do, what to say, how to act, probably even what to eat for breakfast. She shakes her head, glaring down at her report. "Tell him that I'm busy, and that if he's got a problem with the Congressman's speech on Wednesday, he can shove it."

"Hey, Donna."

She knew that voice.

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He stands stiffly in her doorway, hands in his pockets. He's wearing a long coat over his suit, and she gathers that he must've just gotten off work. His eyes are dark.

Realizing that her mouth is slightly ajar, she snaps it shut. She stands abruptly, gesturing awkwardly. "Come in."

He strolls a couple steps further into the office, and Drew glances between them confusedly. She doesn't really feel like making introductions, so she dismisses him with a simple "Thanks, Drew."

When the door is shut behind him, she crosses her arms. She waits for him to say something, but he merely watches her, expression unreadable.

"Umm, take your coat off. Sit down."

He chuckles a little as he shrugs off his coat. "Where?"

She gazes around the disaster zone of an office that she shares with another communications worker, Jen, who'd gone home for the night. Donna rolls her eyes as she moves Jen's chair out in front of her desk. "Like your office is much better."

His expression sobers as he takes a seat, and she fears she's said something wrong. "It really isn't, these days." He replies softly.

She scrutinizes his appearance as he leans back in the chair, trying as hard as he possibly could to look disinterested. He'd lost weight; a suit that would've normally been baggy is now hardly holding onto him. The shadows under his eyes were to be expected this close to election day, but god... Had he been sleeping at all?

But it wasn't her job to look after him, anymore. "Why are you here?"

He looks unsurprised by her harsh tone, but she hadn't meant it to come across as such. She winces.

"Leo sent me."

"He did?"

"Yeah."

Since when had their reelection campaign warranted enough attention from the White House to garner a meeting with the Deputy Chief of Staff, Leo's right hand man? The odds were pretty clearly in their favor, and if the White House wanted to bully them on policy, it was strange that they'd take the time and resources to do so before The President had even been reelected.

"Why?"

"He, uhh..." Josh shifts uncomfortably in the folding metal chair, scuffing one of his ears with a hand. "We're really busy, these days, you know. With the election."

She gives him a pointed look. "Really? I wouldn't have figured."

She watches his eyes rake the room casually, alighting on the "Days to Election" countdown calendar on the left side wall. He attempts a small smile. "Yeah, I thought it wouldn't really have crossed your mind."

"Josh..." She takes a deep breath. She hadn't thought of it much, but it had actually been quite some time since she'd said his name. "What does the fact that you're busy have to do with Leo sending you here?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh, I... That does seem rather counterproductive on his part, doesn't it?"

She furrows her brow. "I don't know. Does it?"

"I guess that depends on..."

"Why he sent you." She finishes, and he nods distractedly. Instead of supplying a reason, he merely watches her, his head on a hand. For a moment, she thinks his expression might be wistful. A stab of her own nostalgia constricts her chest for a moment.

"You look good, Donna."

She looks away, a bit of heat rushing to her face. She resents that he can still do that to her; with a glance, with a few words. "Why did Leo send you to see me, Josh?"

"Ah, well..." He smiles wryly, looking down at his lap. He takes his time in answering, drawing a large breath to bolster himself. "Apparently, I've been a wreck since you left."

She purses her lips. "That's the consensus?"

He nods, finally making eye contact. "I guess so."

She stands abruptly, and walks around her cluttered desk. She grabs her bag, not bothering to stick the report inside. "Grab your coat. Let's go get a drink."

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"How you been?" His expression is timid, and she can't say that she blames him. Were they to act like strangers, as if they hadn't once been closer to each other than anyone else who might've laid claim? Were they to act as though they still were? She hopes the bartender will hurry with their drinks.

"I've been... Good." It wasn't a lie, per se. Professionally, she was doing better than ever. "What about you?"

"Me? I've been great. It's all been one big walk in the park since you left the West Wing, Donna Moss. All roses and buttercream frosting." He gives her a smirk that she wishes was genuine.

"I'm glad." She smiles softly; she'd never envisioned herself missing his sarcasm.

The bartender arrives with their drinks, and it's a while before either of them speaks again. In fact, by the time he speaks, Josh has finished a tumbler of gin, which worries her. He rarely drank hard alcohol; it was usually all cheap beer and "pansy-ass" cocktails.

"So I heard you were seeing Mike Casper."

She doesn't look at his expression, preferring to blow bubbles in her drink like a four-year-old. "I was."

"Was?"

"Was."

"So, you're not..."

"Well, generally speaking, Joshua, when people use the word was, it's to indicate past tense." What had made her believe that, in any realm, this would be a good idea? Her tone softens. "I'm not seeing him, anymore."

She thinks that he smiles. "Why'd you dump him?"

"What makes you think I did?"

"Cause." He taps his glass on the counter as the bartender walks past, and the man collects it to pour him another. "Only idiots break up with you. And Mike's not an idiot. So, deductive reasoning, you dumped him."

She supposes that this could be construed as a little bit sweet. "Okay. You got me. I broke up with Mike Casper."

"Why?"

That was a good question. He'd been good to her, kind and funny as well. He was definitely interesting, an FBI agent, and she liked him well enough. But by the time she'd started spending a couple nights a week at his place, by the time it was a given that they call each other and discuss plans for the evening... The prospect of seeing him at the end of a long day only seemed like it would make it longer. "It just... Didn't work out."

He gazes at her intensely, but she refuses to meet his eyes. Eventually, he breaks off to take a gulp of his drink. "Yeah, okay."

She doesn't know what possesses her to say, "Besides, I've heard you've been sleeping your way through Washington."

He snorts. "Have you?"

"I have."

"Yeah, well, I cut that out a month or two ago."

"Mm. Did you?" She stirs the last ounce of her drink idly.

"Yeah. Accidentally slept with a campaign donor's wife."

It's her turn to laugh.

"And another one's daughter."

"So Leo sat you down for a, erm, heart-to-heart?"

For some unbeknownst reason, they're both grinning like his unfortunate one night stands are the most humorous thing in the world. "More of a verbal spanking, really, but yeah. And it's not one I'm keen to relive any time soon."

She giggles, hunched over the counter. He just watches her laugh, and it's her smile that causes his.

When her laughter subsides, she props one elbow up on the bar, resting her cheek on her hand and turning to face him. "So I'll take it you broke up with Amy."

"Yeah. She dumped my sorry ass."

"Why?"

"Well, apparently - and these are her words, not mine - apparently, I missed you too much. Apparently, I was too focused on the fact that you weren't there, instead of on the fact that she was."

She rolls her eyes. "Apparently," she mocks.

He ignores her. "But, I dunno, I just think... I dunno. She didn't do much for me, in terms of... Happiness."

She smiles slightly. "And your hundred and one conquests did?"

He smirks. "No."

"Well. Lesson learned."

"Yeah." He takes another drink, tired eyes already slightly drooping.

She refuses to let this be the sole direction of the conversation. "How's the campaign going?"

He practically groans, rubbing one eye. "God. Stressful. Hectic. We've gotta hold down the fort in Washington, we've gotta travel the country, we've gotta govern, and campaign, and it's all down to the wire... Virginia's flipping, ya know, I keep telling Bruno to pull funding, but he thinks we've got a chance. It'd be better to put it in the Midwest, you seen the numbers out there? But he won't budge. We're just so... God."

She watches him sadly. She'd seen him like this too many times. "Bruno's still running the show?"

"I miss you." He says abruptly, in place of answer. She sits up suddenly, and he registers her surprise. "I mean, it's not just hearsay, is what I'm saying. It's not just Amy, or Leo, or CJ... I do miss you."

She purses her lips. "You do have a new assistant, don't you?"

"No, I do, but that's not what I..." He trails off. After a moment, his eyes lock on to hers, clearer than before. "For one, she doesn't do half the job you did, but mostly... I miss your laugh."

She furrows her brow. "You miss... my laugh?"

"I miss your laugh, I miss your smile... I miss your voice. I miss you arguing with me, I miss you not bringing me coffee, I miss your jokes and your nagging and seeing you dressed up for functions. Your bad handwriting. I miss... Everything about you."

She sits stiffly, primly, trying vainly not to be affected by the truly earnest quality in his voice, in his eyes. "Josh..."

"You want to know why I miss everything about you?"

She expects him to make a jarring comment about how she left him, how it's all her fault, but she figures she deserves it. "Why?"

He shrugs. "Because I like everything about you."

He says it so simply, so matter-of-factly that she's taken aback. He doesn't notice her reaction, merely taking another sip of gin.

"You haven't called."

He doesn't look up. "Neither have you."

She supposes that this is fair enough. "Josh, you don't look well."

He raises his head in surprise. "No?"

"No."

"Well, as you said, I've been sleeping my way through Washington, so somebody's gotta disagree."

She frowns. "You look so... tired. You've lost weight."

"Been working out..."

"No, you haven't." She's not taking his cute answers. "You've been overworking yourself, and you've been skipping meals. I know you, Josh."

He's affected by her last statement. He admits defeat, gazing darkly into the last dregs of his drink. "Yeah. You do."

Her next remark is out of her mouth before she has time to consider the implications. "You should let me cook you dinner."

A smile spreads across his face. "You? Cook me dinner?"

"Yeah. What's so funny about that?"

"God, Donna, I should be the one making you dinner."

She considers this; it's true enough. They both had a lot to make up to one another. "Then let's cook dinner together."

"Mm?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Let's cook together, and eat together. It'd be even, that way."

He starts to smile again, utterly amused by the proposition. "You and me? Cooking? Yeah, okay."

"I'm serious."

"I am too."

"Are you free tomorrow night?" She pulls out her wallet, leaving enough money on the counter for both of their drinks.

"I am."

"I am too."

"Okay."

"Come on." She grabs his arm and pulls him off his stool; she wasn't leaving until she was sure that he was going home.

They walk out onto the street, heading toward the corner at which they'll part ways. It's cold out, tonight, and their breath fogs the air. "I'll call you."

He looks at her sideways. She hasn't removed her hand from his arm. "Will you?"

"Yeah."

He smiles.

They stop on the corner, in the dim glow of the streetlights. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah." He nods unconvincingly, taking a step into the street as the walk signal comes on. "You too."

"Goodnight, Josh."

"Godspeed, Donnatella."

She watches him walk across, rooted to the spot. As he reaches the other side, she's seized by an impulse. "Hey, Josh!"

He turns at her shout. "What?"

It's absurd, they're shouting across a four lane intersection, but she replies anyway. "I've missed you, too!"

A slow smirk starts on his face, the characteristic dimples forming. "Everything about me?"

She looks away, shrugging. When she looks back, it's with a coy smile. "Most things."

He continues on his way, grinning like an idiot.

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"Donna, are you okay?"

"Mm?"

Her coworker, Jen, watches her with slight concern. They're in their shared office, made cramped by the two of them and their mass paper load, and the close quarters make it easy, if not inevitable, that they keep tabs on one another.

"You seem kind of distracted today."

"Oh, I'm just... Sorry. Not bothering you, am I?"

"Don't be sorry." Jen says curiously. "You're not bothering me, I'm just wondering... What's bothering you, that's all."

Donna attempts a smile. Jen really is a sweet woman. "I'm just... Thinking about merry-go-rounds."

If anything, Jen's concern heightens. "...Merry-go-rounds?"

"Merry-go-rounds and hurricanes."

Jen abandons her work altogether, angling back in her chair to get a better look at her friend. "Why?"

"Because I made a phone call this morning."

"About... Merry-go-rounds and hurricanes?"

"No."

"Oh, good. Didn't think we were tracking those issues."

Donna smiles distractedly. Her gaze wanders, and she picks up her pen for the sole purpose of chewing on it. "Ya know how some people are like, disasters?"

Jen furrows her brow. "Sure."

"But it's... It's all-consuming. The disaster. And it's fun, it's exciting, it's... And then you finally get off the merry-go-round, and you've stopped spinning, and you're a little bit dizzy, and you think, okay. I'm done. No more. But then... you start to miss it. You think you'll just have one more go, one more whirl and you'll have had your quota, but... suddenly it's four years later and you're still on the damn merry-go-round."

"And the hurricane-"

"It also spins, you know? And you like the rain, sure, but a hurricane? There's something magnificent about all that madness, about high speed winds and trees falling down, but the damage is... Jen, it's... I made a phone call this morning."

Jen, beginning to understand her friend's state of mind, smiles slightly. "To a hurricane?"

Donna's gaze returns to her coworker. "Yeah."

"And you're back on the merry-go-round?"

She shrugs helplessly, biting her pen again. "Should I be?"

"Do you want to be?"

"I..."

"Look, there's gotta be a reason you wanted to get back on, you know? If it excites you, if it makes you happy, maybe that is what you should be doing. As for the damage, you're pretty good at cleaning up messes, you know? Just don't let yourself be collateral."

Donna appears somewhat bolstered by these words. "Hey... Thanks, Jen."

"Anytime."

They both hunch back over their paperwork, minds still on the brief dialogue. Jen breaks the silence, curiosity overtaking her.

"Is the man really like being on a merry-go-round in a hurricane?"

Donna looks up in surprise. Perhaps it had only been too clear what type of relationship she'd been talking about. She allows herself a bare smile. "He kind of is."

"At least you know life wouldn't be dull."

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"So, I, uhh... Where do we start?"

Donna gazes out across the supermarket. "Umm. I don't know."

The two of them stand stock still, in business clothes, in the entrance. They look entirely out of place, and perhaps a little bit overwhelmed.

"I guess it depends on what we're making."

"I guess it does." She smiles slightly, watching his expression. "What do you want to eat?"

"I dunno. What do you want to eat?"

She considers it for a moment. Decidedly, she heads over to grab a cart. "Pancakes."

Josh jogs to catch up. "Did you say... Pancakes?"

"And fruit salad, and bacon, and coffee, yes."

"For dinner?"

"Yes." She heads into the produce section.

"Ah-kay. Why?" He watches her pick up and knock on various cantaloupes to test their ripeness, torn between amusement and concern.

"Well, my guess is that your culinary skills still aren't the strongest."

"Actually, despite the rigorous campaign, I've taken the time out to attend cooking classes. There's a lot you don't know about me these days, Donna."

She rolls her eyes. "So we need to make something fairly easy."

"Because your cooking skills are, also, questionable at best?"

She sends him a glare. "Who cooked for you all throughout your recovery?"

"Mostly, my mother. Though I do recall you heating up some canned soup." He grins at her.

"Whatever. I have other skills, okay?"

"Uh-huh."

She grabs some berries, wending her way through the fruit crates. "Why don't you make yourself useful and go find the pancake mix?"

"We're not making them from scratch?"

"Josh."

"Right. Where do I go?"

She turns to find that his expression is slightly panicked. She forces down laughter, moving toward the deli. "Have you never been in a grocery store?"

"Ever? In the cumulative total of my existence? Yeah, sure, I've been to a grocery store..."

"As an adult?"

"Well..."

"I'll take that as a no."

"I get what I need."

"From a gas station?"

He glares at her. "Convenience store, Donnatella, don't demean me."

"Maybe you should just stick with me, pumpkin patch."

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"Now flip it."

"I don't think it's ready."

"It is."

"It isn't."

"Are you... You're burning it! You're doing that on purpose!"

"I'm letting it reach its full potential."

"You're sabotaging the pancakes!"

"You're being over-dramatic."

"It's turning into a hockey puck."

"Damn straight. I have the spatula, I make the rules."

"Tyrant."

"Don't worry, I'll only burn half of 'em."

"Well, great. The smoke alarm goes off, it's on you."

"My neighbors hate me already."

"Well, who doesn't?"

"You don't."

"Jury's still out. Get back to the damn pancakes."

"Yeah, yeah."

Concealing a wide grin, she carries the plate of bacon (that she'd salvaged from his blackening control) to the table. Upon returning to the kitchen, she opens the fridge to retrieve the toppings she'd bought.

"So we've got jam, whipped cream, butter, syrup..." She lines them up in bright array on the counter, but keeps the whipped cream in hand. She fidgets with the little tag for a moment before spraying some into her mouth.

Josh looks at her incredulously. "Did you just lick that?"

Grinning, she swallows massively. "Yupp."

He looks appalled. "You're disgusting."

She shrugs, still grinning. "Maybe."

He watches as she walks the other condiments out to his table and returns, once more taking a mouthful of whipped cream. He tries vainly not to focus on the way she licks her lips. He clears his throat. "Now how am I supposed to use that?"

She vaguely resembles the Cheshire Cat. "Want some?"

She holds it out teasingly, and he feigns disgust. "And contract your diseases? No thanks."

She widens her eyes innocently. "You didn't do this as a kid?"

"And risk the wrath of my mother? Nah."

"Your loss." She raises the can to her lips again. Honestly, she either had no idea what she was doing to him, or she did, and was incredibly cruel.

"Alright, pass me the damn whipped cream."

"Ah ah. Tilt your head back."

She approaches him, smiling.

"How do I know you won't-"

"Trust, Joshua. You do trust me, don't you?"

That was a good question, these days. Not a year ago, she'd up and left him without so much as an "it's been nice," and nothing since. Leo had told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to get it together, but he wasn't sure how he felt about letting her back into his life so readily. He hadn't been doing much to stop it, however, this evening.

He tilts his head back.

She wraps one hand around the back of his neck, laughing as she "accidentally" sprays so much whipped cream into his mouth that he almost chokes. He doubles over, wiping a sleeve over his shameless grin, and it occurs to him quite suddenly that she doesn't work for him anymore.

"You're the worst."

"You have to get to know me."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey folks! This chapter is nothing new, I just thought I should split up what was originally the first chapter. For the new stuff, proceed to chapter three! Thanks for reading!**

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Donna idly spins her phone on her countertop, seemingly unable to keep it long out of reach. She was going to call him. No, she wasn't going to call him. She had no reason to call him. She'd make one up. No, she wouldn't.

It was the inner monologue that had been going on ever since she'd gotten home an hour ago, and it certainly wasn't helping her to finish her section of the congressman's address on oil next Tuesday. It had been three days since she'd seen Josh. It was ridiculous, she'd gone eight months without so much as speaking to him, but now, she was overcome with a desire to see him.

The dinner had been fun. A tad ridiculous, maybe, but fun. She'd left his apartment on a buzz of banter and the pleasant lull of good food, but it was almost the instant she'd pulled away from the building that she'd realized they hadn't planned anything more. Neither of them had suggested they do it again soon. Neither had promised to call. And neither of them had.

They couldn't possibly be back where they'd been last week, given the fools they'd been acting that night. Like old times. But what if that's what he wanted? He hadn't called either.

She was being ridiculous. She should call.

No. She shouldn't.

Did she really want to allow Joshua Lyman back into her life, to such a weighty place? Did she really want to need to see him? Did she want to give him that kind of influence, after how well it ended last time?

_Things are different_, she argues to herself. _He missed me._

She wasn't sure why that thought made all the difference, but it did. Before she can back down, she grabs her cell and dials his number. She still hadn't taken him off speed dial. Hurricanes and Merry-go-Rounds.

_Ring. Ring._

This was a bad idea. She should hang up.

_Ring. Ring._

Oh, god. It was too late. He'd see that she called. What was she going to say when he picked up?

_Ring. Ring._

What would she say if he didn't? Should she leave a message? Should-

"Hello?"

"Oh. Umm, hi."

"...You sound surprised. Did you expect someone else to answer?"

"Hmm? Oh. Nope. No. Hi Josh."

"Hi, Donna."

Whichever he'd recognized, her voice or her number, she's glad for it.

"...You called, Donna?"

"Yes. I did do that."

"Is there a reason that you did do that?"

"There is." Umm, umm. "Look, are you busy tonight?"

"Not really."

Honestly, she was doing him a favor. He'd probably spend all night at the office if it weren't for her.

Alright, how to phrase this... She needed a reason for him to come over. "I need your help."

Well, damn, now it sounded like that's all she wanted from him.

"With what?"

"I, umm. Okay. I need to balance my checkbook."

"...Right now?"

"Well, ya know." Could she have been more vague?

"Donna, you still don't know how to balance your checkbook?" She could be wrong, but he sounds amused.

"You always did it for me." Now she sounds whiny. Oh well. He'd never done well against her whining.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Josh."

"Donna."

"Please."

She imagines him weighing the options; he knows which one he'll choose, but doesn't want her to know that he's such a pushover. "Fine."

"Okay. I'm at home."

"I have to come to you to balance _your_ checkbook?"

"Yes."

"Oh, you owe me."

"More like I own you, really."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on my way."

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"So you're telling me that you spent the majority of your first paycheck on shoes?"

"I didn't ask you here for your judgment, okay?"

He smirks at her from where he sits at her kitchen counter, flipping through receipts. "That part's free of charge."

"Fantastic."

"Always glad to be of service."

She stands on the other side of the counter, watching him almost shamelessly. She'd brought a report into the kitchen to read with her, to appear as though she was doing something, but it holds little of her attention. Surely he had work to be doing as well, but here he is, balancing her checkbook and making fun of her.

Things had gone better than expected.

_Shodo, shoby do... Shodo, shoby do..._

"How was work today?" She asks idly, refraining from humming whatever's on her radio.

"Not bad." That was certainly an improvement over last time she'd asked. "Was just wrapping a campaign thing up when you called. How bout you?"

"How bout me what?"

"How was work?"

"Oh." How strange it was to think that she spent her hours on tasks so vastly different from his; that they should no longer be a team. How nice that he was asking. "It was alright. I'm writing a section for the Congressman's speech on Tuesday, it's my first big address."

"You'll do well."

"Yeah?"

"You've always had a way with words." He sends her half a smile, and within an instant, she's beaming.

_Shodo, shoby do... Shodo, shoby do..._

They'd had trouble deciding on a radio station ("That has a flute, we're not listening to it" - "Well then we're not listening to Journey, either") but it'd been too quiet without it on, and they were both too strung out to want the news on as background noise. They'd settled on the 'oldies-but-goodies' station, if only for laughs.

_In the still of the night... I held you..._

Ah, damn. She feels heat rushing to her face as the romantic ballad progresses, and she wonders if it'd be too obvious were she to turn it off then and there.

_Held you tight... Cause I love you..._

She makes a beeline for the radio, but is surprised to find that he's looking up at her. Not uncomfortably, not teasingly, but with incredible warmth. It's entirely unfounded warmth, and undeserved, but there it was. He was looking at her like she'd cast the stars and the moon and all the space between them, and fucking _In The Still of the Night_ was playing to soundtrack it.

She makes an incredibly bad decision, then.

"You should dance with me."

"I should? Why _should_ I?" He cocks his head at her, all smarmy brown eyes and boyish charm, and she never should've called him.

"Because you want to."

He stands and walks toward her slowly, offering a hand. "I guess I can't argue with that."

Tentatively, she places one hand on his shoulder, and clasps the other with his. He places his on her waist, and she remembers all too suddenly that without shoes on, he's got a good four inches on her. She tucks her chin on his shoulder, eliminating any space between them, but at least she can't see his face anymore. If she were to endure another second of him looking at her that way, she might've done something incredibly stupid.

As if this wasn't enough.

They sway, slowly, without real purpose or direction, and she wonders if a more intimate scenario had existed. She closes her eyes. She felt so secure, here, nicely settled between his shoulders. She tries not to think of them fitting together like puzzle pieces, like something out of a trashy romance novel. There probably wasn't a better place to be.

"So, was this what you listened to as a kid?"

"I... What?"

As ever, humor was the best misdirection. "You know, as a teeny-bopper. One of the greasers, hanging out at the drive-in."

"This song came out in, what, fifty-six?"

"Something like that."

"So I would've been, let's see, negative eight."

"Ah. So I'll take that as a no."

"You'd be correct."

She smiles. She hadn't quite diffused the tension, but maybe that was alright. There was a certain amount of this that was okay, his body pressed so closely to hers.

Realizing something suddenly, she jerks her head off his shoulder. "Josh!"

He cranes back slightly to look at her, confused. "What?"

"I missed your birthday!"

His expression is slightly puzzled. "What, in September? I mean, yeah..."

She shakes her head. "It was your thirty eighth birthday."

He looks away dismissively. "Wasn't a big deal."

"It is a big deal! It _should've_ been a big deal, I mean, and I should've... called, or something. Anything. God, I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I'm awful. I can't believe I didn't-"

"Donna, cut it out." He pulls away from her entirely, taking a couple steps back, and she feels the loss of his body beside hers immediately.

She looks at him in confusion. "What?"

"You didn't call, okay? You didn't call for eight months, and don't act like..." He smiles sadly. "Don't act like I just slipped your mind, alright?"

She bites her lip. "Okay."

"It wasn't like it was an accident."

"It wasn't like I was ducking calls from you either, Josh."

He turns away, running a hand through his hair. "You left. Why would I have been the one to call? That wasn't up to me. You left me."

_You left me_. Her lips tremble. "And I should've known that you wanted me to keep in touch, the send off you gave me? You sulked in your office for days! You didn't even... You didn't say goodbye."

He doesn't look at her. "Because you were leaving! What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay, like some pathetic... Look, you left and you never came back, how's any of that my fault?"

"Well what do you think made me leave?"

She knows she's hurt him. She can see it in his eyes. He turns away again. "I should go."

He heads into the hall, grabbing his coat off the hook. For a moment, she's rooted to the spot. This can't be happening. She can't go back to this; not again.

"Josh. Wait."

He turns to face her, reluctantly, a couple steps outside of her apartment. "What?"

"I didn't leave _you_." She needs to make this abundantly clear. "I left my job, I didn't leave you."

He stands stock still, staring at her. "You never came back for me, though, did you?"

"How was I supposed to know you wanted me to?"

After a moment, he bursts out laughing. It's loud, raucous laughter, and she almost fears the neighbors will start to wonder. Brow furrowed, she takes a few harried steps toward him. "...Josh?"

It takes a moment for him to stop laughing, arms falling to his sides decidedly. He smiles at her wryly. "We're prize idiots, Donna, just top-notch imbeciles."

She opens her mouth incredulously. "Speak for yourself."

He continues to grin, maddeningly. "I'm serious. We're real idiots."

After a moment, she understands what he means. She can't help a small smile, just watching him proclaim it with such confidence. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm going to come back inside."

"Okay."

He brushes past her, flinging his coat back up on the rack. "I'm going to balance your damn checkbook, you're going to order a pizza, and you can leave the radio on, because I was having a good time."

She's grinning widely, now, as well. "Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Surprise! I bet you all thought I'd forgotten about this little fic. But, dear readers, I have not. Here I am, updating it; perhaps a year or so too late, but nevertheless ;) **

**Hope you enjoy! The final chapter(s) should be up later this week! (Which would make this my first finished story! Knock on wood!)**

**Rating: T...?**

**Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to the West Wing, the entire show would've just been me holding Josh and Donna dolls and going "now kiss!"**

**Reviews: Yes please! You guys have been so kind already, and I am so lucky to have readers like you :)**

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Josh walks out of his first meeting of the day, ready for a break, only to be hailed by Sam two feet down the hallway.

"Hey, Josh! Wait up!"

He pauses for Sam to catch up. "Hey. What's up?"

"Bruno's in the Oval, they want you in there."

He nearly groans. "Great."

"Yeah, I know. Only another week though, ya know?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't even want to think about it, quite honestly."

"Yeah. Alright." Sam watches him out of the corner of his eye for a ways down the hallway, his gaze only becoming conspicuous upon tripping on the carpet. "Ow."

Josh raises his eyebrows. "Walk much?"

"Hey, Josh, umm." He proceeds cautiously, watching his feet for more reasons than one. "I've, uhh, noticed you spending more time out of the office."

Josh bristles. "If you've got a problem with my hours-"

"No, no! God, no. It's just... I'm glad you're getting out, some. You've needed the break, is what I'm saying."

He relaxes slightly. "Oh. Okay, yeah."

Sam attempts to conceal a smile. "Are you seeing someone?"

Josh has a terrible poker face; the slow grin spreading across his face says it all. "Or something like that."

"Hey, I'm glad. As long as it's not, you know, a problem."

Josh rolls his eyes. "It's not like that, Sam. No more one night stands for me, pal. I'm a changed man."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. This is... Different."

The look on his face is like one Sam had never seen before. "Different how?"

"Different, like... We made pancakes together, Sam." He says, as if that's the only way to explain it.

Sam can't help a small laugh. "That's adorable."

Josh glares at him sharply. "I have a meeting."

"I'm happy for you, Josh."

"Thanks." With a slight smile, he turns off the hall.

It had been three weeks since he'd walked into Donna's office, and they'd hardly gone three days at a time since then without seeing each other. They'd eaten together. They'd helped each other with work. They'd talked to no end. They'd even gone to the movies once; he hadn't even known there was a theater near his apartment.

Things had been strictly platonic (or as strictly as things could be, between the two of them), but it was... Something.

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"And we're prepared to call a landslide victory for incumbent Democratic Congressman, Ian Randy. The Congressman will keep his seat in the Michigan Fifth."

The office erupts with cheers, drowning out the latter half of the reporter's statement. It's early on election night, a remarkably early call (though not one that they hadn't anticipated), and Congressman Randy's Michigan office is teeming with people ready to spend the rest of the evening celebrating. They'd watch the rest of the election coverage, sure, but with light hearts and ample refreshments. A wave of hugs and high fives ripples across the room for minutes to come, and Donna's roped in by Jen, Drew, the Congressman and his wife, and a few others she'd grown close to. By the time the chaos dies down, her heart is full to bursting.

That's when she hears her phone ring. If it had rung any other time within the past five minutes, she has no doubt that she wouldn't have heard it. Nevertheless, the persistent ringing draws her away from her beaming coworkers, and she leans against a wall with a hope for some semblance of audibility.

She smiles at her Caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Congratulations."

She grins. "You heard?"

"Heard? I've been tracking the news coverage, course I heard."

"But I mean... You called."

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"I just... Thought you'd be busy."

"I am. God, I am. But I... I wanted to say congratulations."

If anything could've made the moment better, it's this. "Thanks, Josh."

"You worked hard on the campaign. You did well. And I just wanted to let you know... I mean... I wanted to tell you that-"

"_What_?" She's forced to shout over the background noise on both ends.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm proud of you."

She hears that loud and clear. "Oh, well I... I joined a winning campaign, we got sixty-eight percent of the vote-"

"Ah, shut up. You did great. Leo's thinking of bringing you on to replace me, seriously."

"You talked about my campaign with Leo?"

"Yeah. He's proud of you too, Donna, really. Everyone is."

She might be blushing, she might be tearing up, she's really not sure. "He... Oh. Thanks."

"Yeah."

She imagines him in the middle of the hectic campaign office, standing stock still with the smile she can hear in his voice.

"How are things on your end?"

"Oh, ya know... Crazy. Stressful. Not as easy of a call as yours was, sorry to say. But if you'll turn on your television, you'll see we're getting nearly as much press coverage."

She rolls her eyes. "We'll be up on this, won't we?"

"For a while."

"Do good."

"Yeah."

"Good luck."

"Don't jinx us now, Donna Moss. Go outside, turn around three times and spit."

"Josh..."

"You'll tempt the wrath of the whatever-"

"-from high atop the thing." She supplies dryly. She'd spent far too much time with the superstition twins. "Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, uhh, you're flying back tomorrow, right?"

She smiles slightly. "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, do you want to... We should do something."

"We should."

"To celebrate."

"Okay."

"Like what?"

"Well, you could take me out somewhere nice. Expensive, you know. Champagne, dessert, the works."

"Yeah, yeah. How bout takeout?"

"And a movie?"

"That too."

"Okay."

"High standards, eh?"

She grins, enjoying this conversation far too much. "...In some regards."

And with that, she hangs up to watch his handiwork on television. She was proud of him, too.

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"It's too early."

"It's never too early for Christmas."

"Yes, it is. Take now for example."

"Oh, Josh. You're such a spoil sport."

"If by that you mean Jewish-"

"This is hardly a Christmas movie, anyway."

He stares at the back of her head from where he stands in the kitchen, retrieving beer. She doesn't turn to look at him, absorbed in the opening scenes of _It's a Wonderful Life. _"Yes, it is."

"Well, fine. Don't watch it with me then."

Smirking, he heads into the living room and passes her a bottle. "This is my house. Where would I go?"

"I don't know, anywhere else. It's cold outside, but I'm sure a walk would be invigorating." She gives him a slight smile, eyes darting away from the screen only briefly.

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"Now that you've paid for dinner, you're just dead weight, really."

"I think I'll stick around, if only to irritate you."

"You're succeeding thus far."

"I live to serve."

"Hmph. I'm going to go get changed." She stands and treads around the back of the couch, toward his room.

He twists around awkwardly to look at her, raising his eyebrows. "Into what?"

She gestures down at her clothes as though this should be obvious. "Something more comfortable."

One corner of his mouth quirks up. "Now, I don't know if you missed this earlier, but again, this is my house-"

"Point being?"

"The clothes in the dresser, therefore, are-"

"Your clothes."

"Look at those deductive reasoning skills you've got going, Sherlock."

She cracks a smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. "Sharing is caring, Watson."

And with that, she leaves the room. He's left grinning like a shmuck at the movie he hadn't wanted to watch.

When she returns, his eyes take a brief detour from the screen to watch her approach. Inconspicuously, of course.

"You're staring."

"No I'm not."

"I get it. I wear it better than you do, but honestly, Josh, that could be said of almost anything."

Okay. He's staring. She curls up on the other end of the couch, and he can't seem to drag his eyes away from the expanse of leg that had previously been covered, which is now... Uncovered. He coughs. "It's been awhile."

She furrows her brow. "It's been awhile since what?"

"Since you raided my closet and camped out on my couch."

She looks down at her beer, swilling the amber contents distractedly. A light blush creeps onto her cheeks, and she smiles. "I've still got the spoils of war."

"What?"

"I've still got a pair of boxers, some pajama bottoms, and a sweatshirt."

It makes him grin, just thinking of her tugging them on at night. Months apart, and she would've had to think of him every time she opened her dresser. It threatens to melt him now, looking at her messy hair and filched, oversized Harvard T-shirt.

"You're a thief."

She meets his eyes to realize he's joking. "I quite like this shirt..."

"Yeah, me too, so paws off."

She grins, eyes back on James Stewart. They fade into a comfortable lull of silence, and occasionally he'll turn to watch her watching attentively. He should be watching as well, really, but the past few weeks, and past few days especially, have been taxing. He's celebrating his own victory, too, and maybe this is him allowing himself contentment.

At some point during the movie, he drifts off. By the time he comes to, Donna is asleep on the other end of the couch, and the end credits have long since ended. He looks around, still dazed, and catches a glimpse of the DVR clock. 1:37.

He weighs his options, and decides it's best that he wake her. He would by no means force her to leave, but he knows she'd be sore in the morning if he let her sleep here. His sleep-muddled brain briefly considers carrying her to his bed, but common sense intervenes and tells him that if she woke up on the way, or if she were to wake up in his bed with no memory of going to sleep there, she might be a tad bit creeped out.

He shakes her shoulder gently. "Donna. Hey, Donna. Sleeping beauty."

"Mm?" She opens her eyes to a squint. "What?"

"We fell asleep. It's almost two in the morning."

She blinks a few times, reorienting herself. "Oh. Okay."

He brushes off thoughts of how cute she looks right now. "I mean, you can stay here if you want. You shouldn't drive right now, probably." He chuckles.

She furrows her brow. "Huh?"

"I just figured you'd want to move to the bed, is all."

She stares at him for a few moments, blue eyes glowing in the dark apartment, before nodding. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. C'mon."

His eyes widen as she scrambles to her feet, and he rises as well to make sure she doesn't topple over. "Whoa, there." He places his hands on her arms, steadying her. "What was that?"

She lifts a hand to brush the hair out of her face. "I said c'mon. Let's go to bed."

"Wait... What?"

"Yeah, c'mon, Joshua. I'm tired, you're tired. Let's go to bed." She takes one of his hands and intertwines their fingers. She tugs him toward the bedroom.

He thinks that in her tired state, she's forgotten all of the reasons why this might not be okay. And in his own sleep-worn mind, watching her (clad in his clothes, her hand pulling his persistently), he's beginning to forget them as well.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go to bed." He smiles with tired bliss, following her into the bedroom.

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**To be continued! Very soon, too, I hope! Please let me know what you think :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey all! Thanks for indulging me by picking up this little story where we left off. Here's the next bit, and I'm thinking maybe one more chapter after this - review and let me know what you think! I'd love to know what you guys want to see happen.**

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Donna wakes, slightly stiff, and more than a little confused. The room looked a little familiar, but it wasn't her room, and _Oh_. She remembers.

The movie watching and grand theft clothing she recalls clearly, but had she really dragged him to bed with her? She thinks that she had. She's comforted to see that 1) his arm is wrapped protectively around her waist and that 2) he'd left all of his clothes on, down to the belt. She smiles. He must've been so confused.

She puts off her embarrassment for the time being and settles back down into the pillows, enjoying the feeling of being held.

When she's next roused, it's by movement behind her, and the arm around her stiffening. She turns onto her other side to see warm brown eyes blinking open slowly.

"Hey." She greets casually.

He stares at her for a moment before replying hoarsely. "Hey."

"You slept well."

He smiles slightly. "I did. And you?"

"Not bad." _Never better, actually._

He continues to watch her with that odd half smile, and she knows that he is unsure of what to do. She is sure that he is contemplating whether it was best to get up, to pull away, to do anything to remove the intimacy from this situation. Which was exactly what she didn't want.

So, she stalls. "You were really that uncomfortable about changing your clothes?"

"What?"

"Your clothes. You slept in your belt."

"Oh." He laughs a little. "Crazy uncomfortable, yeah."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I mean, I wasn't sure of the etiquette in this situation. Like, it's my bed, but there was another person in the bed, and the other person was you, and you're, well, we're... Ya know." He finishes his babbling lamely.

"I don't know, actually."

"You're trying very hard to get me to make an ass of myself, here."

"And I appear to be succeeding." She grins at him maddeningly.

He can't seem to drag his gaze away from hers. Her eyes, so blue, so open, so completely different from the cloudiness that was the status of... Them. He can't drag his eyes away from her, here, in his bed. He can't stop thinking about how right this feels. And he decides to go for it, if only for the sake of clarity.

Because he is so tired of waiting.

He moves his hand gently from her waist to the side of her face, leaning in slowly and purposefully. She does not pull away, remaining still as he kisses her almost shyly. He draws back only when he can feel her smiling against his lips. She gazes up at him with the same maddening grin of a few moments prior, and he can't help one of his own.

"So." She says softly.

"So." He echoes.

She purses her lips. "Do you have to go in to work this morning?"

He glances at his alarm clock. "Not for a few hours."

"Good."

"And why's that?"

Her smile returns. "C'mere."

"Why?"

Her only response to raise her hand to his neck, pulling him closer to her for a kiss of her own.

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"So, briefing in twenty, we've got Jones in with Josh by the end of the day-"

"I'm telling you, he's not answering-"

"Then make him answer. Toby, you know what's on your plate. Get that Bill kid acclimated, will you? He's getting on my nerves."

"I can try."

"Alright. Do good today."

"You got it, boss."

As they exit Leo's office, CJ hustles into place behind Josh, giving him a resounding _thwack_ on the back of his head. "Hey, idiot boy."

"Ow, hey!"

"Walk with me to my office."

He rubs the back of his head, grumbling. "Why?"

"I want to ask you something."

He follows reluctantly. "Ask me now."

CJ looks up briefly from the papers she's shuffling as she walks. "I'm getting to it."

"Get to it faster, I've got things to do."

"Woe, woe. Calm down, sparky."

"Yeah, yeah, just-"

"Do you know my friend Shannon?"

He furrows his brow at her, which she fails to notice as she enters her office and begins rifling around her desk.

"Yeah, I've met her. Why?"

"And you liked her?"

"She was fine, I guess. In the two minutes I spoke to her."

"Good. Okay. So."

He shoves his hands in his pockets, staring at her. He knew exactly where this was going, and he wasn't about to help her. "So."

"Did you know she works at the OEOB now?"

"I did not."

"Well, you know, only a few people in her department were invited to any of the inaugural balls, and only to one each I believe, and she did mention that time that she met you how cute she thought you were, and-"

"No."

CJ looks up at him, caught in her act. "What?"

"CJ, no."

"I was just saying-"

"I am not taking Shannon to the inaugural balls. Any of them, for that matter."

She flicks her hair out of her face, irritated. "And why not?"

"You can't keep doing this, you know."

"Josh, all I'm saying-"

It seemed that ever since he'd broken up with Amy, a large number of CJ's friends who thought he was cute had come crawling out of the woodwork. He knew that she meant well, of course, but he hadn't exactly been in the head space for dating, and whenever she'd managed to wrangle him into a set-up, it hadn't ended well. He distinctly remembers one woman calling him an asshole as he left fifteen minutes into drinks to catch a congressman who was leaving for vacation.

"I have a date, CJ."

This stops her in her tracks. He's grateful he'd cut her off before the _"I'm worried about you"_ part of her sermon. "You... What?"

He says it slowly this time. "I have a date. To the inaugural balls."

"...All of them?"

"All eight of them, yes."

She stares at him as if he'd perhaps grown a second head. "Well... Who?"

"You'll meet her then."

"Do I know her?"

He shrugs.

"You have a date... Weeks in advance?"

He smiles. "I do."

"And it's not a problem, is it?"

He rolls his eyes, tired of this question. "No, CJ."

"You seem... I don't know. This is weird."

"Why?"

"I don't know, it's just... Are you two a thing? Like, you're not just going as friends?"

"We are not."

"So you're...?"

"We're dating, CJ."

If she'd looked surprised before, it's nothing to the look of shock on her face now. "You're _dating_ someone?"

"Yes."

"You're... You're... She's..."

"My girlfriend? Yes, correct."

At this, CJ can't contain a smile. "You just said... You used the g word. Carol, did you hear that? He just said the word girlfriend."

"I heard him, CJ." Carol affirms from the outer office.

"You said..." With a wide grin, she approaches him to put a hand on his shoulder. "Aw, Josh."

Becoming more uncomfortable by the moment, Josh gives her a smile. "Can I go now?"

She relishes his discomfort. "I can't wait to meet her, Josh."

"Yeah, yeah, I've got actual work to do, so-"

"Yes, you can go."

"Thank god."

"I'm happy for you, idiot boy." She calls at his retreating back.

"Thanks, CJ."

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On the night of January 20, 2003, the bullpen of the west wing was close to deserted. Most of the staff had either gone home for the night, as the President wasn't likely to need them, or were off changing and readying themselves for the balls. A few stragglers remained, finishing up last minute work, or else sulking to display to their superiors that they believed themselves deserving of an invitation.

And there, in the middle of the unusually quiet room, stood Donna Moss, clad in a elegant ball gown. She was still for a few moments before the draw of her old desk became too strong. She moves toward the small cubicle, trailing her fingertips across the desk.

There was no litter of paperwork, as there had always been during her time there, which was strange given that she considered herself incredibly organized. She scans the new additions: pictures of her replacement Addie's family, two teenage boys and a professorial looking husband. She felt comforted, as she'd once imagined Josh's new assistant to be young and leggy. The woman, when she'd spoken to her on the phone a few times, had seemed kind.

Nonetheless, a slight jealousy pervades. This woman was here with him, day in and day out. She was the one who listened to his ramblings, who perhaps talked him down, who reminded him of what time it was and who he was meeting with in five minutes. She missed that.

But despite her current stab of nostalgia, she knows that she loves how things are now. She loves waking up next to him. She loves that he still takes the time to ramble on about work to her, pacing the living room in his boxers. She loves that he asks her advice, and even listens to it on occasion. She loves what is new in their relationship, as much as she'd ever loved working with him. More, even.

"Is that Donna Moss? As I live and breathe!"

Her train of thought is interrupted by a beaming CJ, who strides into the bullpen with Danny in her wake.

"CJ!" Donna rushes out of the cubicle to hug her friend.

"What are you doing here?" CJ asks as they embrace.

"Thought I'd pop in and say hello before the motorcade leaves."

"Donna." Danny steps forward for a hug of his own. "Good to see you."

CJ gives her the once over, taking in her attire. "You look stunning, by the way. You're going to the balls, I take it?"

"Who, me? No, I've just got a quiet evening at home planned." She jokes.

CJ rolls her eyes. "You're still working for Randy, right? I didn't know congressional staff got invites."

"We didn't. I'm here as a date. I'm waiting for him now, actually."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad. I haven't seen you in ages."

"I know, it's awful! We've been so busy."

"We have. God, we really have." CJ says, with evident exhaustion.

"So, you two. Are you here together?"

They answer almost simultaneously, Danny with "we are," and CJ with "we aren't." Donna merely raises her eyebrows.

CJ gives Danny a look. "Well, we're here together, but we're not _together_ together, you know what I mean?"

"I don't."

"Don't worry about it." Danny grins, "Chances are the status will have changed by the end of the evening anyway."

CJ's eyes widen, and she attempts to conceal a smile. Donna laughs. "Sounds good."

CJ changes the subject, a blush creeping up her neck. "But you! You're here! I can't believe you're here." She reaches out to touch her arm. "Toby should be here. Hold on. TOBY."

A distinctly grumpy "WHAT" issues from the direction of Toby's office.

"GET OUT HERE!"

A few moments later, Toby rounds the corner, grumbling. "I don't see why I have to... Donna."

Toby quickly neutralizes his expression with a calm smile, but everyone notices the burst of delight that occupies his features briefly.

"Toby!" Donna rushes to hug him. "Don't you look dashing!"

He embraces her, only slightly awkward. "Don't I always?"

"What's all this yelling about - Donna!" Charlie's face splits into a smile, and he swoops in for an embrace as well. "Man, you guys couldn't have come and got me?"

"Charlie. Aw, you look so cute."

"You mean smoldering, right? Incredible? Because-"

"Yes, Charlie, we all know you're going to win back Zoey's love tonight." Toby says flatly. CJ titters at Donna's confused smile.

Charlie waves a hand dismissively. "Don't listen to these goons. They don't believe in me. You here with anyone?"

"Don't tell me you want me as arm candy to make Zoey jealous, now."

"The thought crossed my mind. Hey, it's great to see you."

"You too."

He turns to the rest of the staff. "Motorcade leaves in ten, by the way. Has anyone seen Josh?"

"Last I knew he was in with Leo about something. Said it would only take him a minute." CJ supplies.

"He's dressed?"

"I think so."

At that moment, Josh enters the bullpen, fidgeting with his bow tie.

"Speak of the devil."

"Donna, this damn thing keeps falling apart."

"Well maybe if you'd stop messing with it-"

"I can't help it."

Donna rolls her eyes, smiling. "Come here, I'll fix it."

The other four watch with mild confusion as Josh crosses the room to her, hardly looking at anyone else. She begins retying his tie, and it doesn't go unnoticed that he rests his hand on her waist.

"Whatever would you do without me?"

"You look amazing, by the way. If I haven't mentioned that yet."

"This would be your fourth time, but I'm hoping to hit ten by the end of the night."

He grins impishly, leaning in. "I think that can be arranged."

He kisses her, and it's then that his coworkers seem to unfreeze.

CJ, whose face is filled with shock, is the first to speak. "Wait, _that's_ who you're dating?"

Charlie shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. "Wait, hold on-"

Danny smiles, whereas Toby merely shrugs. "I'm unsurprised."

Josh pulls back, eyebrows raised. "What's up with you guys?"

"I can't _believe_ you didn't tell me, idiot boy!"

"Give the man a break, he probably just wanted to-"

"Don't start with me, fish boy."

"You finally made a move, Josh? Man, never thought you had it in you."

"Charlie, that's beside the point."

"It's my point."

"I'm inclined to tell you all to calm down, but then I wouldn't be able to seek revenge by convincing you all we needed 'Team Josh' hats for the occasion."

"That's a great idea, Toby."

"But still off the main discussion here, which is why he-"

"Lay off, CJ. We all know you're elated."

"Be that as it may-"

"Maybe _this_ is the event I should be covering tonight."

Donna, who had finished tying Josh's bow tie, wraps one arm around his waist, smirking. "You were right. It was way better to wait and see their reactions."

"I _was_ right. Aren't I always?"

"Don't push it."

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! And if you wouldn't mind leaving me your input on a possible last chapter, I'd be forever obliged :)**


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